PART 1
“You’re not here on vacation, Daniela. Since you’re staying for free, you’ll be cooking, cleaning, and keeping the house spotless every day.”
Lauren dropped that bomb before I had even completely stepped through the front door of the beach house she and my brother-in-law had rented in Destin, Florida.
I hadn’t even taken off my sunglasses yet.
I stood there gripping my suitcase while my husband, Rodrigo, let out an easy laugh.
“Don’t make that face, babe. It’s only two weeks. Just think about how much money we’re saving.”
For ten agonizing months, I had painstakingly set aside every spare dollar for this trip. Working as a cost analyst for an auto parts supplier in Atlanta, I had taken on extra shifts, cut out unnecessary expenses, and stopped ordering takeout just to stack nearly three thousand dollars.
Our plan—at least the one Rodrigo had originally sold me on—was a relaxing stay at a beachfront resort.
So my confusion set in when the Uber bypassed the hotel strip entirely and turned down narrow residential streets into a quiet neighborhood.
“Aren’t we going to the resort?” I had asked.
Rodrigo didn’t even look embarrassed. “Plan changed, babe. My brother snagged this house for the whole season. He’s letting us crash for free.”
Free.
That word started to rot in my mouth twenty minutes later.
The house was spacious, but it was an absolute disaster. Sticky cups littered the coffee tables, sand was tracked across every square inch of the floor, dirty dishes were piled high in the sink, and the bathroom clearly hadn’t been scrubbed in days.
George, Rodrigo’s brother, met us in the living room wearing swim trunks, no shirt, and holding an open beer.
“Welcome to paradise!” he boomed. “We’re family here, so no need for formalities.”
Lauren appeared behind him carrying a spiral notepad. I thought she was going to share restaurant recommendations or local beach spots.